


always

by sansuishi



Series: always [1]
Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: AU, Angst, Aoba is a princess in distress, Clear's new configuration is a sadistic ass, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Noiz has a filthy mouth, Noiz has dreams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2014-03-31
Packaged: 2018-01-08 10:16:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1131460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sansuishi/pseuds/sansuishi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>al•ways  [awl-weyz]<br/>adverb<br/>1. every time; on every occasion; without exception:<br/>2. all the time; continuously; uninterruptedly:<br/>3. forever;<br/>Will you always love me?</p><p> </p><p>"In which Noiz invades Platinum Jail and saves Aoba from Clear's bad ending."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nakigaharas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nakigaharas/gifts).



> this fic was written by me, for [the bunny to my Noiz](http://archiveofourown.org/users/nakigaharas)  
> hope everyone likes it.

All is dark. There is a strange sense of nothingness, a strange void under the soft dark fabric upon where his eyes should be. His body feels light and he lost track of time. How long has it been? _A week? A month? A whole year?_ For as long as he can tell, it might be less or more. In the dark there is no sense of time, without seeing or feeling the sunshine or being able to lay down to sleep.  He focuses on what he can; the sensation of the iron against his thighs, ankles, elbows and wrists; the sound of his own breath, constant; and the sharply clean scent in the air inside the room.

The movements are slow and slight, his forearm aches as hellfire and the sound of the chains clanging increases the pain. It extends through his hair, where the cloth is tied and he wants to scream sometimes but the room he’s in is soundproof and it would only make his head hurt more but it is not the pain what scares him the most. What is terrifying is that he barely remembers his grandmother’s face, the sound of his best friend’s voice or how his sheets smell like after cleaned. There is only the cold iron restraining his limbs, his constant shallow breath and the sharp smell in the room. And the more he thinks, the more he tries to remember, more he feels the veins in his head throbbing, not quite the pain he used to feel but  different, more profound, as it grew with him along the years.

Sometimes he holds his breath. He wonders if he holds it for long enough, it will all go away. The unbearable pain in his head, the horrible silence in this cursed room he’s at and the complete and utter darkness he was immersed God know how long ago. He ends up gasping, opening his mouth and breathing the dry air in the room that makes his throat burn. He cannot cry, even though he wants.

Some other times, the door in the room opens and it is the closest he will get to the outside world. _Is there still an outside world?_ The door swings open and then closed right after. His body turns rigid and he holds his breath, as if the person who came inside could not notice him if he doesn’t move, if he doesn’t make a noise. But _he_ is there and nothing escapes _his_ eyes.   
As always, he breathes in and the room smells all the same; sharply clean, like fresh water and iron. He flinches when the person approaches, making the chains sound and the faintest sound blurts out through his trembling lips.

“Clear, n-no…” He utters, desperate and still hopeful to make the other stop. A small laugh fills the room for a second and he whimpers.  “P-please don’t-“

“Aoba. “ The man murmurs and he feels a hand on his hair in a gentle, horribly soft caress that makes his entire body shake. “You are so, so beautiful…” He shakes his head. _No, no, no! Stop it, get away from me, let me go!_ “If only your human body never perished and you could always be perfect, always beautiful… If only you could be like me.” The hand on his hair goes down, contouring his shoulder, his naked chest and stomach. He feels sick and he desperately wants to get away.

_Please, help me. Anyone, anywhere… Please, make this stop…_

The hand goes up again, stopping in his arm, exactly where it hurts. The man had done this before but stopped, for some reason. His arm was wrapped up and the bleeding stanched after the man applied enough pressure. He thought why, for how long but it only made him more terrified. So he indulges. He allows, even though it hurts, even though it bleeds.   
A rippling pain in his arm makes him flinch and another whine escapes his mouth as he smells blood. His blood. The man is gnawing in his arm again and he screams inside, biting his lip mercilessly because he will not make the pain any worse or it will kill him. _Is death such a bad thing now?_

“Please, help… Anyone, anywhere… Please, please, help me!”

* * *

 

Noiz rose his eyes from the small screen of his Coil for the first time in long hours. For the slightest moment, he thought he had heard something, the faintest whisper in the back of his mind. A call for help. It is probably only my imagination. He sighed and his eyes returned to the enormous amount of numbers, codes to be cracked and the wires that connected the device in his hand to a small control panel near the floor, in the gigantic walls that separated the Old Resident District from Platinum Jail.   
He needed an invitation, that much he knew. An ID that would open nearly any door to nearly anywhere, the rest he could figure later. Each invitation had a unique number, something more complex than a bar code. The possibilities were infinite but he kept trying to find a hint, something that made easier to crack the damned system and get inside.

After almost another hour of typing, he stopped. A new screen opened, a layout of most invitations to Platinum Jail. It was blank, with details in black and golden. The fields for a name and time for using were blank. In the edge of the blank paper, there was a code printed in silver ink. A spike of electricity ran down through his spine. _Fucking finally._ Noiz opened the control panel of his Coil, enabled the encrypting –he did not want to take the risk of having his system exposed by downloading the invitation-  and looked at the empty columns in the layout. He typed a name and a date before downloading the file.

Noiz remembers feeling a vague anxiety he cannot let through. He doesn’t know how to let through. He remembers a pair of bright yellow eyes and a face without a single flaw. When he closes his eyes it seems to become brighter, the image of this person, flooding his mind until he almost can hear his voice. And it was then he decided to go to him, after two weeks he was in there, out of reach. For some reason he doesn’t trust the guy wearing a mask. How can you possibly trust someone that never shows his face? His behavior is strange, though not violent and it is suspicious, horribly so. Noiz unplugs his Coil from the control panel in the wall, shoving the wires recklessly back inside and punching the iron cover he broke back into place. He rises from the floor and releases a long, deep breath. Platinum Jail is huge, as far as he can tell Aoba could be anywhere but he knows better. He knows why he got in there in first place and it is almost obvious why he never got out.

_I will go inside. And I will find you to make these dreams stop._


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so very sorry about how long this took me! The past month or so was hard, my computer broke and shortly after my, phone charger. As the first one, unbeta'd. Enjoy ♡

It seemed forever since it started. The constantly firm gnawing in his left arm, as two metallic hands held it in place, as if the chains weren’t restraining enough. The man had gagged him after a while, when he finally couldn’t keep his voice anymore and screamed at the top of his lungs, as it would make the pain weaker. As if anyone could hear him and help.

His arm was aching horribly, the pain extending itself until he tips of his fingers, to his shoulder and his back. And there was the smell… That horrible ferrous stench of blood filling his nostrils and keeping him from thinking straight, if the pain did not do so already. Why was this happening, what did he ever do to deserve this?...

“Aoba, don’t worry.” The voice spoke again, always calm, while two gloved and skilled hands stanched the blood and bandaged his arm up carefully, gently. He wanted to throw up. “We made a lot of progress today. I believe this will be done by tomorrow so please, have some rest meanwhile.” The man took his gag off and he gasped for air, gathering what little strength he had to scream some more, to flinch away and to sob because _for how long this would last_? The man smiled. He couldn’t see it but he could hear him and it was absolutely terrifying. “Good night, Aoba.”

He was left alone again, once the door swung open and closed. He didn’t want to let unconsciousness take in but the pain was too much. There was too much pain, too much fear and he was so, so tired… He lowered his head and slowly, very slowly the pain started to numb out.

 

* * *

 

Noiz looked at the crowd in front of him, a thin line appearing between his brows and a silent curse escaping through his lips. Platinum Jail on the inside was just as big as it seemed from outside, behind the dense walls that created a barrier in Midorijima. He looked up, with a completely disgruntled expression, seeing the Oval Tower at the distance. That was where he was, Noiz thought, the face in his dreams. He straightened his shoulders and began to walk through the people, hearing their animated talks, some talking to him and music coming from stores he passed in front of. Slowly, the tower was becoming closer and so, bigger and added of details in front of his eyes and again, he thought that the face could be anywhere in the tower. Somewhere he had access to with his stolen invitation or somewhere not quite accessible. The only way to know was to try, was it not?

He didn’t remember being so determined on doing something other than Rhyme before. Things like that, a dream that repeated itself again and again, did not usually bother him. In fact, he never had a dream more than once, not that he could remember, at least. And he couldn’t care less that the owner of the face in his dream was someone he knew, that the said someone was probably in danger or dead… What he cared was that he couldn’t rest. It had been two weeks since he woke up in the middle of night with something strange caught in his throat, an odd sensation that something was terribly off except that nothing was wrong. He was still alone in his room, it was still dark and there was silence, save for the ticking of a clock upon his head. 

Noiz pulled up his Coil again, once he had found a passage way much like the one that allowed him into Platinum Jail, with a digital reader instead of a knob but far more decorated. The invitation took a while longer to work on this door and Noiz was ready to pull his cables up when it slid open with a smooth noise, a cool artificial breeze hitting his face directly, making him flinch. _Even the damn air in this place is fake._

The corridors were wide, the bright color of the walls only adding to the impression and he walked aimlessly through them, without a map of the fortress to guide him. All he had was instinct and luckily, his was sharp as a sword. His hands were shoved inside his pockets and he managed, surprisingly, to avoid the security guards on his way through the foreign labyrinth of white colors, wide doorways and halls. Noiz had begun to think he was walking in circles when a different door appeared, with a metallic color that vaguely reminded him the needles used to pierce through his skin, except that this metallic color brought him a sense of uneasiness, as a big part of him now felt and rationalized. "It's just a damn door." He stated to his weaker self, making it quiet instantly and turned the fancy doorknob -first one he saw so far- to open the door. 

In the second he stared into the room behind the metallic door, if the voice inside him had eyes, they would be open wide now, given the amount of guards that suddenly appeared, ready to tackle him down. Two were nearer and grabbed him by the arms, throwing him off the room and to the floor with their body weight. "Get off me, you fucker!" Noiz growled, trashing violently until his right hand was freed and he punched the guards away, kicking one against the wall. Again, it did not feel like he was himself. There was a gigantic force inside him, making him punch his way out of five more guards that approached, the only thing that bound him to reality was the sound of bones cracking and bodies falling to the floor. In front of his eyes, there was only the face of his dreams, the amber eyes filled with fear, the pale skin contorted into an expression of anguish as the pink lips mouthed, voiceless. _Help me._ Finally, all the guards were down, for good. His left cheekbone was pulsating with a punch he couldn't dodge and he was sure he had a bleeding lip or brow but he didn't particularly care. This room was empty, save for the guards on the floor and the very strange chains dangling from the wall so he moved to the room adjoined to this, behind another metallic door. 

The second room was smaller, perfectly organized with see through boxes, containing syringes, straps of rubber, boxes of disposable gloves and masks, little bottles of medication, bandages and curatives. Some had packets of oil, oddly shaped tools and something that looked like a torture device that Noiz didn't let his mind imagine what use it had. There were disposable video cameras, white boxes with the biohazard symbol on it and small jars with strangely colored fluids on it, everything on white shelves at his right. At his left was a bed, one of those they had in hospitals and upon it, a metal tray with scalpels of different sizes, forceps, scissors, and in case the illumination failed, the place would make a perfect scenario for an horror movie of the worst kind. 

The room was empty of people, though he could smell a stench in the air. A sign that no one was here now but someone was definitely here not long ago and the said someone stank. Between the bed and the shelves, was another door. _What am I going to find behind this one? A dancing surgeon that happens to be a chimp?_

There was a sound next door, one almost too faint to be heard, almost too slight to not be confunded with the sound of his own thoughts, almost too distant to be really behind this door. Almost. What he had heard were chains tinkling and for a tragic reason, he knew this sound very well. In younger age, shackled to the floor of his bedroom he had trained his ears to ignore the sound so he could sleep uninterruptedly, even with the cuffs tugging at his skin mercilessly, coldly. "Found you." He talked to himself openly for the last time that day. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise I will try not to delay the last chapter so much. Thank you all for the kudos, really made me feel motivated in spite of all the difficulties!


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noiz said his name and the face took a while to say his own in return. As if they both couldn't believe the circumstance that brought them together again. Noiz approached enough and his dream became completely real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, I am finally posting another chapter! this was supposed to be the conclusion chapter but I decided to chop it in half. it had too much mixed info altogether and it was bothering me so  
> here goes!  
> p.s: warning for shirtless Noiz

The first thing he noticed was the noise of the door swinging open but not closing right after, as usual. And this time, the door was opened with some strange urgency, not calmly as the man always did. Aoba flinched instinctively, finding himself to be afraid of this unusual pattern just as much, if not more, than the routine of calm cruelty he was put into for so long. Still, even with all the fear, there was the slightest glimmer of hope that he would be freed from that torment and with it, he noticed something else. The room no longer had a sharp smell of metal, burning his nostrils coldly. There was a subtle perfume, something so wonderfully familiar and yet, he couldn't associate who was there, if someone was really there. It could have been months since he was caught and trapped, he had been through too much pain to be completely sane and this could be an illusion. 

_Please, don't let it be an illusion._

Whoever was at the door seemed paralyzed for a moment, not moving, barely breathing. Aoba was desperate, wanting to scream his lungs out for the person to take him away, to beg to be saved from that torture by being taken away or killed, it no longer mattered but his voice simply wouldn't come out and he could almost understand why. He was naked, save for the black bandage upon where his eyes should be; the shackles kept his arms lifted and his legs slightly spread as he sat upon something soft, perhaps a chair. He didn't know what was the state of his arm but if he had to guess, he would say that some the flesh had been completely eaten, exposing a bloodied bone and the bandage was not of much help, for the gruesome amount of blood that he felt trickling down to his body. Aoba couldn't move or speak too, for not knowing what to expect, simply hanging his head again and feeling as if he would cry. Until the person moved. 

"Aoba." The voice whispered, with a soft tone that held a deep bewilderment within and he started to remember the sound of it more and more. The voice had a sharp but young face, certainly masculine. The eyes were blue or green... Yes, they were green. A deep jade that Aoba deeply wished he could see again, staring at him with a constant expression of disinterest and mild irritation that now would be his solace in the darkness. The voice had a face, personality and Aoba fought the invisible force pulling him into unconsciouness, simply to remember one last detail about the voice as it approached, took his hands with soft and warm ones. And finally, Aoba looked up, the slightest curve of a smile in his lips as he remembered, in spite of all the pain and the utter darkness he was sunk into for the past two weeks. 

"Noiz."

* * *

 

 

Noiz stared at him for a moment. The face of his dreams, looking so very different from what he had seen with his eyes closed, deeply asleep. In his dreams that face asked for help, called his name, with amber eyes welled with tears. Now, the face had no amber eyes to stare at him, simply a stripe of black cloth upon where they should be,  revealing nothing. The owner of the face was bare, save for the cloth, tied to the ceiling and the floor by thick chains like the men and women Noiz had seen in old books, chained to stones to be tortured. Blood washed his left arm, from a little past the elbow down to his shoulder and rib, like a horrible red river down a pale complexion. And then, the face was not just a face. It was someone, with a loving smile and the softest sapphire hair framing the delicate features of his face, someone with a smooth voice and someone he had to save, to take away from this artificial hell. It made his stomach flip -not entirely unpleasant, just indeed strange- and Noiz forced his voice to come out before beginning to approach. To prepare himself and warn the other. 

Noiz said his name and the face took a while to say his own in return. As if they both couldn't believe the circumstance that brought them together again. Noiz approached enough and his dream became completely real. 

The chains had a simple lock, something consisting of a pin inside three interspersed rings but they weren't reachable by the hand they restrained. Noiz undid the lower ones first, around Aoba's slim ankles and then, moved to the upper ones in his arms. He started by the right one, watching as the limb fell down as a doll's, completely numb for the long time in the same position and Aoba let out a soft whine, turning into a scream of pain as Noiz released his left arm. The injure nearby his elbow started gushing blood again, but Noiz didn't mind. "There. I've got you, don't worry." He murmured as he draped Aoba's right arm over his shoulder and helped him away from the table.

  
He was free.

 

Noiz walked slowly towards the door, watching as the other fought to take firm and more urgent steps, desperate to escape and slowed his own steps, to assure Aoba that they would leave /now/, with no need of running.

The pained scream Aoba let out when his left arm was released was what made /him/ realize something was happening. As if the walls had eyes and ears, he came, before Noiz could make his way out of that room. The man. This or he was crossing the walls like a white ghost, appearing not one minute later after Noiz untied the other man from the chains. Aoba flinched and the blond could see now, why the sapphire haired face of his dreams was chained up in this room, or better, /who/ had trapped him there. 

The man was tall, wearing a white trenchcoat with a simple cut, white pants and black leather boots, the only touch of color was a light yellow scarf around his neck, right under the slim chin with two moles on it. His light silver hair was falling freely around his face that revealed nothing he was feeling, if he felt anything, the bright pink eyes were in fact too bright to be human and his lips almost showed a smile, curving so very slightly upwards that Noiz was surprised he even noticed it. It was the first time he'd ever seen the man without his mask and he truly wished it was the last. The man was cold, his eyes and smile of a psychotic serenity that made Noiz clench his jaw. "Where do you believe you are going, Aoba?" The man asked, his voice smooth and devoid of any emotion, ignoring the other man as he spoke. "We still have plenty to do so I am not finished yet, remember?" 

"You are not finishing anything, psycho." Noiz broke into the conversation, unconsciously stepping between Aoba and the man. "You better get out of the way or I will have to force you out. 

The man chuckled and Aoba clung to Noiz's arm for his life at the sound. "You? Force me out? I would like to see you try." Noiz pressed his teeth together, the strong set of his jaw, the burning anger in his jade eyes and his white-knuckled fists indicating he would /love/ to try and was ready for it. He pulled his shirt off through his head, throwing it over Aoba's shrunk shoulders and leaning him against the wall. The cold air was prodding at his bare chest and back with numbing invisible fingers but Noiz couldn't care about it. The man's smile was wider and he approached slowly, not even flinching as Noiz's fist connected to his jaw. The blonde hissed lightly, feeling the bones of his hand cracking and the silver haired man chuckled again. “All you’ve got?”

“Shut the fuck up!” Noiz was quick to ignore his smashed hand and attack again, this time slamming the other man against the floor. The noise, a dry clinking made Noiz frown and wonder if he had heard right. Before he could dodge, the man under him lunged forward, smacking their foreheads together and Noiz’s vision became a blur. The area between his eyes was throbbing and he didn’t have enough time to get up before the man’s leather boot hit his ribs with an inhuman strength. While gasping for air and attempting to see properly again, Noiz decided that the pale man was definitely not human. When he was about to be kicked a second time, he managed to grab the man’s ankle, twisting it with all he had and the man fell once more.

Finally, Noiz managed to grab that  _alien bastard_ by the hair and smash his head against the floor repeatedly, until the hands around his throat gave in. He released the tufts of silver hair and managed to stand up, blinking his eyes repeatedly until he could see clearer.

Aoba was crouching in a corner of the room, clutching to the sleeves of his shirt for his life and trembling. “Aoba,” Noiz croaked out, supporting himself against a wall, fighting to breathe normally. “Come. We are going home.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter might take a while to be finished, but only school is to blame.  
> on the other hand, there will be flowers and smut so the wait might be worth!  
> thank you for reading!


	4. Chapter Four -Final-

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was home, back in Midorijima, where he thought he would never return alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter feels a little too fast for me- but oh well, I didn't want to make a fifth chapter and so, delay even more to finish this gift. :'D  
> so here goes, final part!

 

  
The way out was nothing but a blur to Noiz. He remembers that they did not share a word throughout the way and that he'd look at Aoba by his side every so often. His slim arm was still bleeding, his lower lip had lost all the color and trembled, making Noiz wonder if Aoba was crying or feeling cold. The last thought made him stop, tug one of the curtains from its trails and wrap it around the other's body, cover him up. The night lights peered through the now uncovered window and Noiz looked down, realizing the crowd outside seemed slightly smaller. He also noticed the glass was peppered with transparent, bright droplets of water. It rained in this artificial hell?

He looked at Aoba again, moving his hand up to remove the black cloth but felt thin fingers around his wrist before he could feel the texture of the fabric. Aoba could not see but all of his remaining senses were sharper. 

Noiz understood and they continued walking. The blonde would later feel his both hands throbbing, his elbow caked with someone else's blood and an ugly circle around his eye and assume that he fought more guards. Not that he remembered. The rest of the way, except for the small parts he'd stop and look at Aoba, was a blur. 

 

The air that engulfed them upon leaving the tower was cool, fresh by the rain and, for the first time Noiz felt slightly relaxed. Aoba's expression was blank, he panted lightly and had one hand pressing the wound in his left arm, in attempt to stanch the bleeding. They walked more calmly, neither minding the people staring at the shirtless man and the other by his side, wrapped in a silk white curtain. Noiz never really cared for others' opinions and Aoba... Well, he had no choice but not notice people's looks and gestures. Just as they left the Oval Tower, they left Platinum Jail, Noiz murmuring a "fuck off" to a six feet tall robot with a panda outfit that approached them on their way out. 

 

Outside, it was late at night. The moon was high and full, bright in the clean sky among the stars. The ground, the air, the moon and stars were all natural. The sound was of crickets and their own steps, after Noiz nearly blindly guided them out of the ruins of the old access to Platinum Jail. He felt tired, all the energy he used to fight his way in and out of the Jail added to the weeks without proper sleep finally taking their toll upon his body. Noiz felt and he felt absolutely drained. But that was not all. He also felt a small form pressed agains his aching ribs, warm and soft, nearly numbing the throbbing area where the man's boot had landed; felt proud of himself for having knocked down a ton of guards and mostly, felt relief. Throughout his way, Noiz silently wondered what he would do once he found the face of his dreams, never reaching a plausible answer. And now, the hurricane that question caused had turned into a calm and silent night, with a warm presence beside him. The restlessness had vanished and Noiz felt calm, knowing exactly where to go. 

 

* * *

Aoba was following the other man through wherever they were going. A small part of him was still afraid, still desperate for being in an utter and complete darkness and knowing it was how things would be from now. He would never see the sunlight again, nor his grandmother's face or the deep dark blue of Ren's fur. There was only dark and he felt completely vulnerable. Still, another part of him trusted the other man, did not fear he was going to be taken into another room, chained and cut. Technically, he had no reason to trust anyone, when he didn't even trust his own thoughts but for some odd reason, he trusted the tall blonde that was carrying him to somewhere he did not know. After sucking in a few deep breaths, Aoba steadied his legs, pulled the curtain up and picked up his speed on walking, to wherever they were going.

 

The first thing he recognized was a fresh smell of grass and the ringing music of the crickets filled his ears, making him flinch a little. Every sound seemed louder, every smell sharper. There was a slight moisture under his bare feet, unlike the smooth hardness of concrete and paving. Aoba recognized everything and made a low noise in the back of his throat, once more feeling like crying. He was home, back in Midorijima, where he thought he would never return alive. And he only had to thank him, the man with a constant expression of mild irritation he so wished he could see again. 

 

They continued to walk, still in silence, until their way was interrupted, by Aoba bumping lightly against a cold wall and the impact making him shiver from head to toe. Noiz held his arm, asking if he was alright right after, and his voice sounded low, actually concerned but calm. Aoba nodded. His stomach was flipping with anxiety and he had a thousand of things to ask but nothing in mind at all. He could hear the sound of the locks of a door dislodging and the hand in his arm gently guided him inside. "Watch your step," Noiz had murmured ahead of him and Aoba muttered a soft "thank you" in return. 

 

Soon, he realized where he was. The place was silent and Noiz quickly urged him to somewhere he could sit, putting a change of clothes upon his lap. Everything, from the air to the soft chair he was sitting, everything smelled like Noiz. Aoba looked up a bit lost, even if the black cloth upon his eyes showed nothing at all. "Can I... Clean up?" He finally croaked out, having a warm pair of hands helping him up from the chair he was sitting to another room. The sound of water running made the slightest curve of a smile appear on his lips and he released the curtain he had been holding, letting it pool around his feet. 

 

After guiding Aoba inside the shower cabin and making sure he had everything he needed within reach, Noiz retreated to the kitchen to prepare something. Hell, like he knew how to prepare anything that wasn't canned soup but maybe... It was better than nothing. While the soup boiled in the small, long unused pan, he leaned against the counter and looked out through the window. It was late, so late at night the morning wouldn't take long to come and he had realized this was probably the last night he was up, sleepless because of the face in his dreams. Part of him was satisfied to put and end to that drama, to the hollows around his eyes and how difficult it was to focus on anything when all he could see was that pale complexion, the small red slit of lips, the deep golden of eyes, that man he had just rescued and that he barely knew. Another part of him felt torn, between wanting to have the ability to repeat what he just did today all over again, just so his routine wasn't so devoid of emotion. But again, why did he have emotions at all for that man he barely knew?

 

Noiz was snatched from his thoughts by the smell of soup flooding the small flat he lived in, a low curse leaving his lips as he realized some of the soup had stuck in the bottom of the pan. Well, he couldn't prepare anything at all, not even the damned canned soup. At the same time, Aoba called him from inside the room. The sight he had made his heart stutter, even if just a little and his mouth unhinged on its own. Aoba was naked, holding the towel around his slim shoulders, his hair was damp and forming small dark blue rivers upon the white towel. His long and pale legs were exposed almost completely, the skin perfect and seemingly so smooth- Noiz cleared his throat and Aoba shivered a bit. "Can I have something to wear?" He asked softly and Noiz woke up again, picking the clothes he had already separated: a black and long sleeved shirt, gray sweatpants, white underwear and socks. The clothes were bought for an impulse, when he began to think of going after the face in his dreams. He failed on the size of the shirt but the pants seemed alright. 

 

They are quietly, as quietly as they walked till there, Noiz staring at the damned black cloth upon Aoba's eyes and trying to pry his mind from imagining what was underneath. Or wasn't. After Aoba dressed, he had bandaged his arm with a stripe of a towel he had torn and Aoba seemed calm, handling the stress of the trauma pretty well so far. 

 

"How long have I been there?" The blue haired man asked, unsure, letting his spoon fall against the emptied bowl of soup. He had turned to Noiz and even without a pair of ambers to stare, Noiz could feel the weight of his glance. 

 

"Two weeks." He responded, his tone clipped and his gaze turning from Aoba's face to his own bowl of soup, mostly untouched. From the corner of his eyes, he saw the other sighing and his slight shoulders slumping. Two weeks he had been missing, being tortured and no one even attempted to find him, to send help, to do /anything/?

 

"I'm sorry."

 

The sentence was hovering them, followed by a mortal silence that none dared to interrupt for a while. Aoba was taking a small gulp of water and Noiz swallowed the bitter taste of nervousness and uncertainty the words left behind. "I'm sorry I didn't search for you before." Noiz added after a moment, finding himself unable to remain cold and indifferent now. Aoba cocked his head lightly to the side and smiled again. Tired and small but genuine nonetheless. 

"But you did search for me. You saved my life and you continue to help me, even if... We don't know each other for long. I only wonder why you, instead of all the others. Granny, Koujaku..."

 

And Noiz knew the answer the second Aoba said that. He knew exactly why him and it was because he was obnoxiously stubborn and persistent when he wanted to be, making him develop skills to put him in or out wherever he wanted, whenever he wanted. It was his own merit, no one else's. What he did not know was if he should say it out loud, if he /could/, even, without sounding absolutely childish, without making his facade fall and showing him to be raw and sensitive as any other human being. Noiz stared into the darkness of Aoba's glance, patient as his small hands held the cup of water, his presence emanating comprehension when he should be scared, fragilized. He realized he was just as vulnerable as the blue haired man now. 

 

"Because I dreamed of you."

* * *

 

It was the morning of the third day. They had chatted and Aoba reached the conclusion he wanted to be away for a while, after calling his grandmother and a few friends, not explaining thoroughly what had happened yet on purpose. He was not ready to talk about it yet and, unlike everyone else would, Noiz did not insist for him to do so. He did not ask about his eyes, his arm or why he was there with that strange guy with a mask in first place, avoiding the subject all together for the longest time. It seemed to be a satisfying behavior for Aoba and he wasn't exactly curious to know about him, the face of his dream, sufferings. The first day was of adaptations. He had to buy some more decent food and tell himself, again and again, to learn how to cook a few things and mostly, to adapt his house for someone who could not see. What little furniture he had was pushed to the corners, leaving space enough for Aoba to walk without stumbling of bumping into anything. He had developed a quick way to make the other learn the space of his apartment by counting steps. It was when it started. 

 

"From the doorway to the room, Aoba." Noiz inquired, perched up on the sofa after placing the taller man in front of the entrance of the flat. Their flat. 

 

"Five ahead, six three to the left, first door in the hallway." Aoba responded promptly, not moving an inch. 

 

Noiz huffed a silent laugh. "Go, then."

 

The blue haired man sighed, walking slowly as he counted his steps. One, two, three, four, five. With a turn in his ankles, he was facing the corridor that led to the bedroom and bathroom. "One, two-" 

There was a gasp and a thud against the carpeted floor, making Noiz dart out of the sofa and into the corridor. "Ouch." Aoba murmured, between a soft hiss and a laugh, showing a scratch he made in his knee by rolling up the right leg of his gray sweatpants. 

 

"Not so smug now." Noiz added, helping the older man up and earning a playful smack at his shoulder.

 

"There is a wrinkle in the carpet, idiot." Aoba retorted, kicking the said wrinkle and Noiz nodded, defeatedly. Aoba had indeed memorized all the routes around his flat. 

 

Noiz placed Aoba sitting on the bed, walked over the bathroom to find the first aid kit he got to take care of Aoba's arm and returned quickly, kneeling to the floor and spraying the antiseptic fluid over the red scratch over Aoba's pale knee. 

 

"Why do you do that?" Aoba murmured, holding Noiz's bandaged hand as his knee was properly bandaged too. "I mean... It's just a scratch. Why all of this?" 

 

Noiz did not respond for a while. He felt his cheeks hot and the words had abandoned him entirely, leaving his throat dry and an annoying restlessness in his hands. There wasn't something he could say this time. Aoba rarely asked why and he rarely found himself unable to answer but this was really beyond his comprehension. Aoba was a grown up man, they didn't know each other for more than a month and really, it was just a scratch. So why?

 

They found the answer in each other's lips. 

 

Noiz made the move first, leaning forward until his lips pressed to Aoba's parted ones clumsily and for a moment, they did not move, neither further into or away from the touch. Then, Aoba rested his hands over Noiz shoulder, smoothly moving up to the nape of his neck and ever so slightly, pulling him closer. 

 

They fell back to the bed, the kiss deepening until it was too hot to bear and they gasped, almost visibly into the cool winter air inside the room. Hands and lips sprawled, tugging at fabrics and hair, whispers and gasps for air, until they were both bare, a mess of limbs upon the black coverings of Noiz's bed. 

The younger was lying spread-eagles on the bed, the other on top of him, as slim fingers mapped his chest, his neck, arms and face again and again, committing them to memory. Noiz sighed and Aoba bent down to capture his lips again. 

 

"Do you want me to..." He started, his hands covering the full curve of Aoba's plump ass gently, not forcing, never forcing. 

 

"No, it's alright." Aoba responded, barely above a whisper in a couple of shaky breaths, moving his own hand behind his back and whining -the most delightful sound Noiz ever recalled hearing- as he penetrated himself with two saliva-coated digits. Noiz's eyes were darkened, almost all pupil, and he panted lowly, his hands resting over Aoba's milky thighs as he watched him, the /man/ of his dreams preparing himself, making soft pleasured noises and circling the slight hips against his own, creating a slow friction that made him arch off the bed and further into the grinding. 

 

"Noiz... Now." He blinked his eyes open, having closed them as Aoba moved his thin wrists a bit faster, his small moans becoming more urgent. Noiz sat up, starting another heated, almost desperate kiss. He lined himself up and sighed against the older's lips. Aoba was so open and ready, so willing. 

 

At first, it was slow and smooth. Noiz could guess Aoba had never done this before, let alone with a handful of piercings to go along and there was nothing to hurry. They were alone, safe and it was only a winter morning. The blue haired man choked back the cry which wished to propel from his lips, feeling Noiz's hipbones knocking softly against the swell of his ass. 

 

"Are you alright?" Noiz asked, breath ragged and voice low and slightly hoarse against Aoba's neck. 

 

"Y-yes. I am... Great." 

 

They chuckled softly into each other's lips, fading into a double wordless moan as they began to move against each other. Noiz kept his eyes open the entire time, stilling his hips and simply leaning back against the bed as the other rode him thoroughly. He tilted his head back for a second, only a second, his hands squeezing Aoba's waist lightly. The image of his dream came again. Those amber eyes, that smie, the dulcet voice they now moaned his name, moaned he was /close/...

 

Aoba came first. He cried Noiz's name out, squeezing his shoulders a bit too hard and spilled against his twitching stomach, his knees firmly planted on either sides of Noiz's hips, upon the mattress, trembling visibly. His forehead was damp and a lovely flush had spread over his body and face. Noiz switched their positions then, hooking Aoba's legs over his shoulders until the thighs he was holding were trapped between their chests. His thrusts were short and deep, making the other pull the sheets between little clenched hands. Noiz soon followed suit, emptying himself inside the one he had dreamed of. He felt exhausted, blissful and genuinely happy. He felt again and it felt wonderful to feel. 

 

Aoba slipped his legs out of Nouz shoulders, resting them down to the bed as they lay together for a while, still tucked in together and sticky in their body fluids. There was a peace of mind, something Noiz never quite experienced before about all of this, something that made his stomach flip pleasantly and his thoughts swim as a boat in a calm, calm lake. 

Noiz quickly fell asleep, Aoba tucked snuggly in his arms and the crook of his neck. His sleep was deep and he dreamed, of waves of sapphire hair slipping through his fingers, pale skin and a dulcet voice murmuring sweet nothings to him. 

* * *

 

"Will you always stay? Even if I can't see you go, will I always know you are here?"

 

"Yes. Always, Aoba."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for keeping me encouraged to write, when I believe this is actually the first multichaptered fic I managed to finish!  
> Special thanks for [my girl, beta, princess and endless source of inspiration](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Guardian) that helped me through this fic. Without her, I'd never have finished. :'D  
> Also, thanks for [Miti](http://archiveofourown.org/users/nakigaharas), for being a cute bunny and accepting my fic even with its chapters badly delayed. 
> 
> I want to work more for the fandom and perhaps I'll do it in a near future. Hope you all like what I made here until then!
> 
> -Ryuu


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